


Cold Hands

by willhenreeeee



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: M/M, Rating: M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willhenreeeee/pseuds/willhenreeeee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two cold nerds decide to try something new.<br/>Mainly fluff and humor, but there's some smut as well (because I like to try new things too).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Hands

Quentin was curled up in a near-perfect ball beneath his covers. The air around him was freezing, as it had been for most of the day. The staff hadn’t fixed the weather in their little bubble of campus yet, leaving everyone desperate to stay warm. And Quentin was doing well with that. Under his blankets, he had created a pocket of heat that kept him content and made him feel relaxed. At least he was relaxed until he heard the door open, nearly slamming against the wall. The door clicked closed again in a much less dramatic fashion. Quentin’s eyes snapped open and he tensed, expecting a million different outcomes, all equally terrifying. When he felt someone slide into his bed, he almost panicked, but a familiar voice immediately reassured him.

“Scooch, Q, I’m fucking freezing.”

Quentin smiled as he moved over, letting Eliot into his bed. Eliot immediately pulled the covers out, all of them having been wrapped around Quentin like a cocoon moments before. He scrambled to press against Eliot, not just because he wanted to, but also to maintain the heat he had built up over the past few hours. Eliot sighed in relief and wrapped one of his arms tightly around Quentin, spooning him.

“You’re like a human toaster oven,” he sighed.

“And you’re a human icicle,” Quentin noted, putting a hand over Eliot’s. He was almost shocked by how cold it was.

“I know, I’m dying,” said Eliot, as dramatic as ever. “I tried getting in bed with Margo first, but she kicked me out when I accidently touched her face. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her scream. She acted like I stabbed her.”

Quentin laughed, until he thought the whole thing over. “...Why was Margo your first choice and not me?”

“Force of habit,” Eliot replied honestly. “Also her room’s closer. What, are you jealous?”

“Uh…”

Eliot laughed and kissed the back of Quentin’s head. “Next time this place turns into Brakebills South, I’ll make sure to leech off your body heat first.”

Quentin chuckled, rolling over to face Eliot. He had his head propped up on his other hand, the covers pulled up almost to his shoulder. His usual gold robe had been replaced by a fluffy white one that seemed a few sizes too small for him. Quentin leaned forward and kissed Eliot’s lips, only to be greeted with an open mouth. Not what he was going for, but he was fine either way. Eliot rolled over, pulling Quentin on top of him. They kissed for a minute, until Quentin broke away with a yelp as Eliot slid a snow-cold hand up his shirt. His boyfriend pulled away, frowning.

“Oh, come on. They’re not  _that_ cold.”

“Sorry, you just startled me,” Quentin said gently.

He sat up and straddled him, taking a moment to make sure the covers stayed hanging on his back like a cape. He then took Eliot’s hands in his, pressing them to his body to help warm them up. Eliot smiled and rubbed his thumb back and forth over Quentin’s chest affectionately.

“So why is it so damn cold anyway?” Quentin asked.

He’d seen the blizzard earlier, but didn’t know the source.

“From what I’ve gathered, a first year -I’m not gonna name names, but clearly a very moronic one- fucked some spell up and made the storm. And they’re  _still_  trying to clean up the mess.”

“All I’ve heard is that the fountain froze over.”

“Oh, good! We can go skating on it.”

Quentin laughed. “Yeah, I’d rather not. There’s way too much freaky shit hiding in there...”

“That’ll all be trapped under the ice!” Eliot teased. “Look, we can just get some ice skates and have fun. Make a date of it.”

“I’d prefer dinner, thanks.”

Eliot laughed and sat up, moving his hands down to Quentin’s waist. Quentin put his hands on his shoulders in return and started to kiss him again, soon moving down to his neck. He was about to latch down when Eliot stopped him.

“Higher,” he breathed. “I want people to see it.”

Quentin shivered and moved up to a spot he figured would be visible above Eliot’s collar. As he sucked, Eliot let out a soft moan and moved one of his hands up to the back of Quentin’s neck. It didn’t feel cold anymore.

Quentin started to move further south, pausing to focus on Eliot’s attire.

“...Okay, I’ve gotta ask. What’s with the robe?”

“It’s Margo’s. Cute, right?”

Quentin nearly bust out laughing as he tried to pull it off. “How?!”

“I asked her if I could borrow it.”

“No, I mean, how the hell did you get this thing on? She’s half your size!”

Eliot laughed with him, and they took a moment to fight with it, eventually getting it off. He tossed it over to the nearby desk chair as gently as possible.

“One word: desperation.”

Quentin rolled his eyes in a playful way. He moved onto Eliot’s velvet-soft pajama shirt, laying down short kisses on his chest and stomach as each button was released. Eliot leaned back against the pillows, in bliss. Finally, Quentin moved down the the waistband of Eliot’s pants, and glanced up. Eliot was grinning, and Quentin grinned in return. He’d been nervous about giving Eliot blowjbs the first few times. Eliot had mistaken this for inexperience (not a single one of his friends believed he wasn’t a virgin, not even Alice), but in reality he was nervous about disappointing Eliot. He knew that his boyfriend had slept with many other first years, and was afraid he’d be the one that gave a shitty blowjob, causing Eliot to reject him. But he’d been wrong on the accounts that 1) Eliot wanted him for more than just sex, and 2) he actually was pretty damn good at giving blowjobs. Go figure, since he’d only ever known the wonders of vaginal sex before meeting Eliot Waugh.

He wasted no time, not feeling like being playful or dominating. It was too cold to drag this out, he just wanted them to fuck and be done so that they could retreat back to the warmth of cuddling. He slid Eliot’s cock into his mouth, and within two seconds there was a loud moan and a fist grabbing his hair. Quentin quickly adjusted, taking to every one of Eliot’s reactions easily, as he was used to this by now. And he was starting to love it as much as Eliot did.

He glanced up in an attempt to make eye contact, but Eliot had his head tilted back, currently focusing on his pleasure only. Which was fine by Quentin, as he looked beautiful. He stared up at him for another moment, just enjoying the view. Then he got an idea. Quentin was surprised that this had popped into his brain, as while he’d fucked Eliot, Eliot had never really fucked  _him_  per say. Aside from oral, anyway. But Quentin decided to roll with it, as it fulfilled both Quentin’s curiosity and his wanting this to be short and sweet. He pulled away, pausing for a moment to consider Eliot’s cock.

“Ummm, what are you doing?”

Quentin looked up at Eliot’s face, to see that he was not only confused, but offended. Quentin held back a laugh, taking a moment to gain his composure.

“Sorry, I just… I want to try something.”

“What?” Asked Eliot, his annoyance shifting to curiosity.

Nervousness came over Quentin as he realized what he was doing, and he had to take a moment to gather himself.

“Do you think, uh, I could maybe, um… ride you?”

Eliot stared at him for a moment before breaking into a fit of laughter, burying his face in his hands. Quentin blushed heavily, regretting his decisions… as usual.

“S-sorry, we don’t have to, I-I just-”

Eliot held up a finger to shush him, as he was still a wheezing mess. Finally, he could speak.

“Okay, for the record, I wasn’t laughing at your idea, I was laughing at how fucking sweet and adorable you are. I’ve never had a guy ask me something that way in the history of _ever_. Secondly… sure, why not? I’ve never really done that, buuut. It’s fun to experiment.”

Quentin smiled. “Are you sure?”

Granted, they had a strange dynamic, with Eliot being submissive despite his confident persona, and Quentin being the more dominant one despite how anxious and blushy he was. Eliot led the way and Quentin did what he wanted, but it never involved acts performed on _him_ so much as _Eliot_. Now he was giving Eliot complete control, something he wasn’t sure he was used to when it came to sex.

But Eliot, always eager, was already reaching into the nightstand drawer and pulling out a container of lube. Quentin took a deep breath, shaking himself out.

“...Do you want to do some leg stretches first?” Eliot teased.

“Nah, I’m good, I-I’m ready,” he said.

With that, he grabbed onto Eliot’s cock. Eliot gave him the comical confused look again.

“....What are you doing? Get off me.”

Eliot gave Quentin’s hand a light smack, and he quickly retracted it.

“What? Aren’t you ready?”

“I am, you’re not. Quentin, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you’re probably tight as hell and if we go at it straight away it’s gonna suck. For both of us. So we - emphasis on  _we_  - need to loosen you up. You need to relax. Scooch forward.”

“Okay, but… what the hell are you doing?”

Eliot was lubing up his fingers, and looked Quentin in the eye.

“I’m gonna shove a cactus up your ass… what do you think I’m gonna do, baby? Just hold still, try to relax. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll forget it.”

Before Quentin could clarify that what he thought was about to happen was going to happen, Eliot had a finger inside him.

“Holy fuck!” Quentin gasped, his hands practically slapping onto Eliot’s shoulders. He felt Eliot’s breath against his neck as the other man laughed.

“Do you like it?”

Quentin managed to choke out a small “yes”. The feeling was strange and maybe slightly uncomfortable, but overall pleasant.

“Relax Q,” Eliot mumbled in his ear. “Don’t overthink it, just feel it.”

Quentin swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to loosen up in Eliot’s grasp. And it was working until there was a second finger suddenly inside him.

“ELIOT! JESUS!” Quentin said, digging his nails into Eliot’s shoulders.

Eliot giggled, laying a soft kiss on his temple. “God, you’re so dramatic.”

“You’re a dick,” Quentin said, tilting his head back.

“And other facts about me that we both know,” Eliot said as laid more kisses on Quentin’s cheek and ear. “...I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’ll warn you next time, I promise. Now relax.”

Quentin was suspicious at first, but decided to trust his partner. He let himself focus on what Eliot was doing as opposed Eliot himself. And soon, he was relaxed once again, moaning softly in Eliot’s ear.

“Are you ready for another?” Eliot asked.

“Yeah… oh god, are you gonna end up shoving your whole fist in there?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“...Let’s just stop at three.”

“Okay,” Eliot chuckled.

He slid in the third, and Quentin made an embarrassingly loud noise, burying his face in Eliot’s neck.

“This is amazing,” he sighed against Eliot’s skin.

“Mmmhmmm,” Eliot agreed.

After a few moments, Quentin pulled his face back, looking Eliot in the eyes. “...I’m ready.”

“Thank god, my dick’s sore as fuck.”

Quentin laughed and helped Eliot lube up, an act that was usually the other way around. Quentin was interested in this change of pace, and he could tell Eliot was as well. He had let go of his usual attitude and replaced it with what Quentin knew was his “ _serious sex face_ ”: his eyes backlit with lust and his mouth opened slightly. Within a few moments, he had gathered the courage to slowly push Quentin down onto him.

And the moment was incredible for both of them.

They both cried out then stared at each other in a pleased but floored way, like they were young boys that had just discovered masturbation.

“Ohfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, wait,” said Eliot.

He adjusted his position slightly, his hands firmly gripped onto Quentin’s ass. Quentin had reassumed his death grip on Eliot’s shoulders, and was starting to leave deep impressions in his skin.

“...Okay, go,” said Eliot, his voice a shell of what it usually was.

This was just as new an experience for him as it was for Quentin, and it showed. He didn’t seem nervous so much as speechless, however. Quentin was surprised he’d never tried this before. Then again, Eliot knew how he wanted to be fucked and usually didn’t question it much from there.

Quentin started off slow, Eliot helping to guide him. Eliot seemed eager to move faster, but respected his partner’s need to start off slow. Aside from that, Quentin let Eliot take the wheel, as that tended to be the way things went anyway. He didn’t mind it one bit. He took immense pleasure not just from being fucked, but also Eliot’s reaction to fucking  _him_  for the first time. He had moved one of his hands up Quentin’s body and to his favorite spot, the back of his head. He also had his face pressed next to Quentin’s, who was trying to move as close as possible anyway so his cock would rub against Eliot’s stomach. 

It didn’t take long for them to climax. Eliot came first, in the loud, excited way he always did. Eliot shuddering and crying out was enough to push Quentin right over the edge. He let out a long moan and released Eliot, who immediately flopped back against the pillows, his head nearly hitting the wall. Quentin pulled himself off of Eliot and flopped back in the opposite direction, letting his legs splay out in a haphazard way in front of him. Eliot decided to do the same, kicking Quentin a bit in the process. Quentin winced. Unlike his hands, his feet were still cold.

“...So that happened,” Quentin said after a minute.

“Oh good, I was hoping I wasn’t dreaming or some shit… now get back over here, the cold’s starting to get to me again.”

Quentin gasped as he suddenly became aware of the freezing air touching his skin. He fought to pull up the now balled up covers (they’d all been pushed aside by the time Quentin was in Eliot’s lap) and threw them over. Eliot pulled his knees up and Quentin moved over to his side, gasping as Eliot lightly touched his stomach.

“...Calm down Q, I’m just cleaning you up.”

“...Right. Sorry.”

He hadn’t even noticed him snatch a box of tissues of the nightstand.

“You’re so flighty,” Eliot teased.

Quenin laid down, and both of them asserted their original positions from before Eliot decided he wanted to fuck.

“...I think I like it when it’s  _me_  riding  _you_  better,” said Eliot honestly.

“That’s alright, I love it too,” said Quentin.

Eliot smiled and kissed him, this time in a gentle and affectionate way.

“Not that it wasn’t hot,” Eliot continued. “I mean, you’re sexy as hell.”

Quentin felt his cheeks grow hot. He wasn’t sure if Eliot had ever called him sexy before.  _Cute_  or sometimes  _gorgeous_ , yes, but never  _sexy_.

“...Thanks,” said Quentin.

Eliot looked at him in disbelief. “...You’re welcome? ...You know, you blow my mind sometimes Q.”

“I mean, I just, it means a lot coming from you. Because, you know, you’re super sexy. I mean, ridiculously sexy.”

Eliot laughed. “File that under even  _more_ facts about me that we both know.”

“...Okay Narcissus, go to sleep. I know you have an exam tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me… actually, do remind me, because I still need to get the answers from Brandon.”

“Babe, you don’t need to cheat. You know pretty much everything.”

“I do, but the thing is I also don’t want to waste an hour thinking about everything when I could just copy it down.”

“So you’re lazy,”

“I prefer to say I know when and where actual effort should be utilized.”

“...So you’re lazy.”

“Shut it,” Eliot said, holding back a laugh.

He rolled over onto his back, and Quentin moved forward, resting his head on his chest. Eliot smiled and started playing with his hair.

“...By the way, Q, thanks for keeping me warm.”

“Anytime,” said Quentin. “I don’t mind your cold hands.”

“True friends let their friends caress their faces even though their hands feel like a frozen dinner,” Eliot mused.

“Heh, yeah… hey wait, I thought you said you  _accidentally_ touched Margo’s face?”

“...Go to sleep, Quentin.”

Quentin laughed, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t be jealous of Eliot and Margo’s friendship. Even though it often felt like _he_ was a third wheel as opposed to _her_. At the same time, he knew they were just friends, and respected the bond. He sighed softly, stretching his arm across Eliot’s chest.

“...I love you.”

Eliot froze for a second, dropping Quentin’s hair. After a few moments though, he seemed to relax.

“...I love you too, Q.”

 

\--

 

A few minutes later, Quentin felt Eliot poke his back.

“Q, I just realized something.”

“Mmffph. What?”

“I could have just used a warming spell this whole time.”

Quentin laughed drowsily as the light of a half-assed miniature sun blanketed the room.


End file.
